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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30041133">The Biological Necessity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homo_Vulcanensis/pseuds/Homo_Vulcanensis'>Homo_Vulcanensis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Green and the Yellow [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, No Porn, Pon Farr, Post-TMP, and canon non-compliant?, everyday life in the 23rd century, i'm not sure, just plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:29:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30041133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homo_Vulcanensis/pseuds/Homo_Vulcanensis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story about Spock being constantly asked if he is alright. He is not. No porn, just plot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James T. Kirk/Spock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Green and the Yellow [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072271</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Four Visitors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This somehow morphed into a mix between a coming-of-age story, an anthropological description of the 23rd century, a character-study and Dickens' Christmas Carol. Enjoy anyways I guess.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Spock, get off me, will you? Do you even hear me?” Spock blinked into awareness slowly, realizing that he was lying on top of his Jim, who had an expression somewhere between amusement and alarm on his face. “You’re alright now?”, Jim asked after a few seconds. Spock looked over to his own abandoned bed and then to Jim again. He nodded. “I am sorry.”, he murmured as he rolled to the side and off Jim.</p><p>Jim got up and took his uniform from the hanger inside their closet. “Please don’t get me wrong, I would love to take you up on that offer any other day, but you know that I am speaking in front of the Federation council today. And please don’t be sorry, isn’t losing control not the whole point of the thing?”, he told Spock while doing so, his smile radiant even in the half-dark of their bedroom. “Indeed.”, Spock murmured, wrapping himself into the soft blanket on Jim’s bed. He hoped that his bondmate wouldn’t see how much he was trembling under it. He didn’t, as he swiftly left the room to change in the bathroom. It was not like he usually did this, but Spock could appreciate it as the most rational option.</p><p>This <em>pon farr</em> was strangely different to the last one he had suffered through. He didn’t feel so irrationally angry, which was quite a relief. At least Doctor McCoy hadn’t forgotten the day Spock had thrown a bowl of hot soup after Nurse Chapel, as he had teased him about it just the week prior. No, this one hit him in a very existential way. He suddenly feared that he might not be good enough for pretty much anything or anyone. It was especially painful when Kirk gave him one of his signature smiles. Also, he was suddenly very much scared of death. It was not a disposition he had ever found himself in, not even seven years earlier. But alas, it was an illogical affliction after all.</p><p>A hand was placed on his shoulder. Spock abruptly realized that he had fallen asleep. He blinked awake yet again. “I’m leaving now. Please don’t hesitate to call me, alright?”, Jim said softly. He moved a hand over Spock’s back. Spock remarked silently that his heart had no right to beat so hard from such a simple touch. “Good-bye Jim.”, he said. Kirk sighed amusedly at the heart-eyes Spock was giving him. “You know, sometimes I wish I was even half the man you apparently see in me.”, he told him. Spock didn’t know what to reply.</p><p>“I think there is still some of that vegan <em>Paella</em> in the fridge, in case you are hungry.”, Kirk shouted, already at the door. Then, the apartments automatic doors closed behind him. Spock wondered for a short moment what Jim had been talking about, and only then realized that this must be the dish he had prepared for dinner the day before. Spock had barely managed a bite, too distracted by his bondmate. He wanted to laugh at himself, but he didn’t have the energy for more than a tired chuckle. Now suddenly near tears, he reached over to his own bed and took the blanket that was still laying there. He rolled himself into it as well.</p><p>The next time Spock awoke, it was from a voice once more. He wondered shortly if Jim had returned already, but then he realized that this had not been Kirk’s voice. Instead, it was his very own voice that had addressed him. Spock slowly turned on his back, so he could see what was going on. “How could you?”, the voice accused him again. Spock slowly looked to the source. It was like looking into a mirror, except it was apparently a time-travelling one. Spock stared at his younger self, clad in the blue Science Officer uniform. “How could I what?”, he asked. “You took what you were not supposed to. Are you not ashamed?”, the other replied, and waved a piece of yellow uniform cloth. “Your Captain. Your friend.”, the other hissed angrily. “He isn’t my Captain anymore.”, Spock tried to defend himself. “But does that really matter?”, the other asked. “Yes, it does.”, Spock said, but the other didn’t seem to listen. Instead, he jumped onto the bed, with a force Spock doubted he had ever possessed. Spock jolted awake, finding himself tangled up in the blankets, and sweating profusely. He tried to calm his heartbeat. It had all been nothing but a dream.</p><p>Sonics weren’t really the go-to for a cold shower, but one could fiddle with the settings in such a way that the rays were of especially low energy, and therefore quite cool. At least cool enough to help a feverish Vulcan get out of his nightmare. When he stepped out of the little cabin, he didn’t feel good or even rejuvenated, but just barely less horrible. His meditation robe, which he had been wearing pretty much since McCoy had put him on medical leave earlier that week, was not what he would categorize as clean, so he just jugged it into the basket with the other articles of clothing that needed to be washed. They were stapled rather high, he remarked. Washing them would have been a relatively short affair, but since Spock had used most of his time off for sleeping, and Kirk had spent all of his for either fussing about Spock or his presentation to the council, they had gotten behind on their housework by a fair measure. There would be time soon, Spock thought and crossed the hallway and went back into the bedroom.</p><p>He ended up choosing one of Kirk’s shirts and some jogging pants, and trotted towards the room he had designated for his meditation, at the end of the hallway. Once inside, he fell onto his knees, not bothering to light his lamp. This was more of a habit thing that him actually believing that he could achieve a state of peace. Nonetheless, the tried to take deep breaths. He stared out the window, which allowed him quite a good look at San Francisco. Not the <em>Golden Gate</em> bridge, that was a view reserved for the living room, but rather <em>Downtown</em>, with its many modern, and partly alien-looking buildings. It was a nice view too.</p><p>But, of course, it didn’t help. He couldn’t help but disagree with his younger self. While Vulcans believed in the illuminating power of dreams, this one had surely been nothing but fever-induced illogic. He sighed and got up from the floor. Maybe he should get himself something to eat? When he strolled into the living room at the other end of the hallway however, he had a much better idea. He took his lyre from its stand next to the book shelf and sat on the couch with it. He leaned his head against the backrest and began to pluck at the strings. This actually seemed to help him center a little, even though he didn’t manage to play an actual song. But he was playing for nobody but himself, and he liked the sounds that came out of the instrument. The longer he played, the more he lost himself in the moment. He began to hum in accordance to the notes.</p><p>This moment of well-being was immediately lost when he turned his head to the left side. There, on the floor lied Jim, his body bloody and his neck in a strange angle. Spock let the lyre fall and ran to him. “Jim, Captain, no!”, he managed, before he felt a hand on his shoulder. “He’s dead alright.”, McCoy snarled in his Southern accent. “How?”, Spock asked, aghast. “Well, that’s a funny thing to ask. You killed him just now.”, the Doctor answered. Spock only now realized that he held an <em>ang-won</em>, a lasso-like weapon, in his hand. It was slung around Jim’s neck. “No!”, Spock shouted again. He would never hurt his friend; the friend he had hopelessly fallen for. “This cannot be!”, he continued. “It ain’t.”, McCoy said, seemingly amused.</p><p>Spock found himself on the floor in the middle of the living room. It took him a moment to realize how he had gotten there. “Jim!”, he murmured. He was alone again, the specters of the past nothing more than a memory. He turned back to the couch. He sat down and reached for his lyre; it had fallen to the floor. He had to realize to his disdain that two of the strings had ripped. It was an easy fix, but he would have to wait until his hands weren’t trembling anymore to attempt to replace them. He put the lyre back onto the stand. It would be safe there, he hoped.</p><p>When he was drinking a big glass of cold water, the doorbell rang. Spock raised an intrigued eyebrow. Maybe it was Doctor McCoy on a surprise visit? That would not be like the Doctor, on the other hand. Nonetheless, Spock opened. In front of the door stood a woman in her mid-thirties, seemingly as surprised to see him as he was to see her. “Ahm, I must say that this sounded much more reasonable in my head.”, the woman said. Spock crossed his arms. He would have raised an eyebrow too, but it was already up. “You see, I’m your neighbor from one floor down, and you’re usually very quiet.”, the woman tried to explain herself. “May I thank you?”, Spock tried, no less confused than before. “Well, and just a few minutes ago, there was some really loud noise, and I wanted to make sure that you were alright.”, the woman ended her explanation. “I am flattered, but I assure you that I am unharmed.”, Spock replied, surprising himself by how collected he sounded. He thought about how he didn’t exactly look like he was, however. The woman seemed to think the same thing, judging from the way she studied his tousled hair. “I am an actor, I was merely rehearsing my newest role.”, he lied almost out of reflex. “Ah, and that’s the reason for the dress-up as well?”, the woman wanted to know, and Spock simply nodded. He felt himself becoming tired, however. “If you will excuse me, I will need to return to my work now.”, he said. “Of, course, sorry to bother you.”, the woman said, and Spock closed the door on her. He slumped against the wall and closed his eyes for a few moments. He was awfully glad that his neighbor wasn’t a man.</p><p>He ended up having the left-overs from the previous dinner for lunch. He tried not to think so closely about the dream or hallucination he had just had. All he wanted was for this to be over. He wanted to be in control of himself again. It occurred him that he might stay the way he was now, and he could feel the tears quell in his eyes. He abandoned his meal in search for his PADD.</p><p>Finding it was harder than he had anticipated. It was mostly due to the fact that he had simply forgotten where he had put it. This had never happened to him before, and it surely didn’t help his mood. He found it, finally, under his bed, where it had apparently fallen at some point. He lit up the screen and sat on the floor, leaning against the bedframe. He went to the contacts menu and called Jim.</p><p>It took him an awfully long time to answer, or so Spock thought. It left him ample time to rethink his choice to call his bondmate. This wasn’t urgent, after all. Calling him when he knew that Jim was in a council meeting was rather illogical actually. When he was about to end the call, the other side connected. “Sorry it took so long, I had to find this headpiece in my backpack.”, Jim said as a way of greeting. He was indeed wearing an inconspicuous device that allowed the user to speak almost inaudibly, while being perfectly clear to the receiving end. It was not perfect in every way, as the magnified voice sounded strangely robotic, but Spock found he didn’t care at the moment. “You’re alright?”, Kirk asked, seeing that Spock wasn’t going to open up. Spock nodded. “Now, that I am assured that you are well.”, he replied. “I wouldn’t call this well. The Andorian ambassador has been droning on for about fifty minutes now, and I am still not sure what the subject is. I mean, he has even brought a presentation, but it doesn’t help.”, Kirk smiled like a man that was glad not to be a diplomat. “You have not presented yet?”, Spock asked. “No. It’s still about an hour until the big moment.”, Kirk explained. “I see.”, Spock said.</p><p>“Are you sure that you are alright?”, Kirk asked again. “I believe that I am having hallucinations.”, Spock simply stated. Kirk stared at him for a few second. “I can ask Bones to go and have a look at you.”, he offered. Spock shook his head almost immediately. “It is not him who I need.”, he uttered almost under his breath. “If it’s that urgent, I am sure I can get out of here somehow.”, Kirk said, concern visible. Spock shook his head again. “I believe I can handle my situation for another few hours. I merely needed assurance.”, he said. “I love you.”, Kirk said, smiling the smile that he reserved just for Spock. “As I do you.”, Spock replied. “You know what, I am actually quite excited for tonight.”, Kirk said with a wiggle of his eyebrow. “I am not sure that it will be exciting.”, Spock replied, but Jim’s excitement quickly found its way in his own nether regions, and he seriously considered the subject in graphic detail. “We’ll see.”, Kirk said. “I think I need to hang up now.”, he added. “Good luck for your presentation, then.”, Spock said. Kirk looked like he wanted to comment on the emotionalism in that expression, but he let go almost immediately. “Thanks. Until tonight, then.”, he said and hung up.</p><p>That call had helped somehow. Spock got up from the floor. He thought for a moment. There were a few things he should take care of, if they were to put an end to his affliction this evening. He walked into the living room again, and quickly found a piece of paper to put a list on. Using real paper might have been an illogical luxury, but he was afraid that he would break his PADD if he used it any longer.</p><p>A few minutes later, Spock had finished his list. Only half of the last bullet point had been written down, as the pencil had broken mid-way, but he just decided to remember what it was. He checked the list again, and decided to do the most tedious work first.</p><p>He tried to choose something to wear outside, but he couldn’t decide on anything. He growled unhappily, and finally decided to just wear his jacket over what he was already wearing. The mirror indicated that he looked quite ill, but he didn’t manage to care. He put on a hat Jim had knitted for him, as it was easier than brushing his hair. He would be cold anyway, even though it was summer. It was only when he exited the elevator on the ground floor that he realized that he had forgotten not only to take his card, but to put shoes on as well. He pushed the button to their floor a little too hard, and it crunched silently. The elevator began to move anyway.</p><p>Having taken both their grocery bag and his card as well as having his shoes on, Spock stepped on the street outside the living complex. It seemed to be early afternoon, judging from the sun, and the streets were full of people. Spock tried to avoid them the best he could, but he had to shudder a few times when he accidently brushed against shoulders.</p><p>Finally, he reached the grocery store. Even though it was a small space, there was almost nobody there. Only the cashier and another customer occupied the space. Spock relaxed slightly, even though the cold inside the store was affecting him more than usually.</p><p>San Francisco grocery stores in the twenty-third century would have needed some explanation, if a time traveler from the past would have stumbled upon one. On the far wall were several replicators, as those were still uncommon and impractical in private households. All kinds of protein-based products were in a cooling unit next to them. There were old-timey stands that held produce; fruits and vegetables that had been grown in hydroponic gardens all around the city. The bread was prepared freshly too, even though ‘<em>baking</em>’ would have described the process badly. If you chose a product on the bread maker’s screen, it would mix together the ingredients and shoot microwaves at the dough, and finally shake it out of the machine. The whole process would take less than two minutes. The apparatus had a window on one of its sides, and Jim would usually stand next to it, watching it do its work in awe. Spock unsuccessfully tried to think about anything else than his bondmate enjoying himself while he chose the bread. While the machine did its work, Spock turned to the produce.</p><p>He had decided to go shopping as their food was about to run out, and he was quite sure that both of them would be quite hungry once his fever had been quenched. He however hadn’t thought about what he should get exactly. So, he simply chose what looked appetizing. They would think about a way to prepare the food when the time came, he decided. When a relatively loud sound informed him that his bread was ready, he looked down at the cucumber, bananas, butternut pumpkin and green beans he had put in the basket. He felt himself flush, and immediately put the freshly baked bread on top of it, so he didn’t have to look at his selection. It was a baguette; it therefore didn’t help much in covering anything. This was simply ridiculous. He also chose a pack of grapes, because he knew he liked them.</p><p>At the replicators, he thought for a while what he needed. He knew of one thing that was surely necessary. He looked around, checking if anybody was watching him, and then quickly selected a bottle of lube to be replicated. A choice Jim would surely be quite happy with. He thought if there was anything else of that kind that would be needed, but he figured that they would probably not be able to enjoy any amenities anyway. What he replicated, however, was a bag of chips, and some of those colorful balls that had some kind of fruit acid inside. Spock couldn’t understand what the appeal of any of those was, even after repeated consummation. But Jim seemed quite fond, and therefore his choice was logical. He also replicated some cookies that he liked too. The replicator printed out a code that indicated the products he had replicated.</p><p>He was almost ready to go to the counter, when he remembered that proteins were probably a good idea after what they had planned. He took a block of pressed plant protein from the cooling unit. Now he was ready.</p><p>“Oh, Mister Vulcan, long time no see.”, the cashier said and slightly licked his lips, as soon as Spock put his basket on the counter. Technically, a store such as this one didn’t need Human staff, but somehow there were always people who liked to do the job. This one also liked to flirt with his male customers. Sometimes, Spock even returned the gesture, more out of politeness than real interest. The cashier rightened his neckerchief and began taking the products from the basket and choosing them in the system. There were little sounds every time his gel nails impacted with the touchscreen. When he got to the cucumber and the lube, he wriggled an eyebrow at Spock. “Having something planned for tonight, haven’t we?”, he joked. It took Spock a few seconds to realize that he was growling, and that it was the reason for the cashier jumping up in mock alarm. “Hola, I didn’t even know Vulcans could do this.”, he said. Spock managed to get himself under control.</p><p>If he weren’t feeling so awful, he would have probably been fascinated by the fact that he felt threatened by another man’s overtures. It was logical, in its own way, but somehow unexpected. The cashier scanned the replicator code and pressed the green button at the bottom of his screen. It beeped with the sound of a job done well. “Your card, please.”, he said and Spock obediently swiped the little plastic object over the scanner. It deducted both kilojoule units and credits from his and Jim’s shared account. The kilojoules represented the amount of food they were allowed to have each month, and the credits paid for everything inedible. The price was production cost only, of course. Private companies had died out during the <em>Third World War</em>, and therefore nobody was interested in a profit margin. It would have been a strange concept a just two centuries earlier, but neither Spock nor the cashier knew it any other way.</p><p>Spock tried to pack up his groceries as fast as he could. The cashier studied the screen. “Oh, there’s a parcel for you.”, he said. The store doubled as a post center. “If you’ll just wait for a second.”, the cashier said with a wink and walked over to one of the replicators. He swiped his batch over the sensor and leaned down a little lower than strictly necessary to retrieve the parcel. Spock looked for a second, then studied the pattern on his coat intently. The cashier returned with the parcel and gave it to Spock. It was middle sized, the standard packaging for transporter delivery. The parcels would be dematerialized by a transporter, and then rematerialized when they reached their destination. The method was extremely space-saving. “Are you planning on going to the food festival later?”, the cashier asked, but Spock ignored him, half because he didn’t know what the Human was talking about, half because he wasn’t planning on going anywhere. “Good-bye.”, he said instead, and left the store as fast as he could without running.</p><p>When he was on his way home, Spock realized that he understood after all what the cashier had said. On his way there he had been slightly astonished by the amount of people crowding in the streets, but only now he also saw the stands and trucks that were lining the streets. A ‘food festival’ was apparently an event at which small snacks were sold. He was confused that he hadn’t registered any of this earlier. He walked a little slower, his curiosity peaked even in his current state. He suddenly found that he had stopped entirely, and that he was intently staring at a stand that sold meatballs. Usually, he would be repulsed or at least not interested, but he found the smell that emanated from the grilled meat to be most enticing. Slowly, he moved closer.</p><p>Against popular belief, Vulcans were vegans more out of habit than conviction or belief. If necessary, eating another feeling lifeform was considered logical. There was therefore nothing physical keeping him from indulging a little bit. But did he actually wish to do? “How may I help you?”, the stand keeper asked friendly if a little confused about the Vulcan ogling his products. “Where do you get your raw material from?”, Spock asked before he could keep himself back. He looked at the store keeper. Quite a juicy man himself, he remarked inwardly, and the tips of his ears flushed green. “The meat, you mean?”, the stand keeper asked, oblivious to the turmoil inside Spock. “It is lab grown, just a few streets over from here, actually.”, he offered friendly but carefully. He apparently expected a debate on meat consumption, or so it seemed.</p><p>Spock turned back to the meat balls sizzling between them on a grill. “Will you have a pike?”, the stand keeper asked innocently. Spock hadn’t bothered to read the sign that explained the snack available at this particular stand. Therefore, he didn’t know that the ‘pike’ was three meatballs stuck on a skewer. Instead, a blond man in a really well-fitting uniform smiled at him, asking something about the scans. Spock blinked hard for a few seconds before he could shake off the image. The stand keeper was looked at him, seemingly concerned, but uncertain what he should do. To keep him from asking after his well-being, Spock spoke quickly. “Yes, please.”, he said.</p><p>The stand keeper offered him the meatballs on a skewer. “What sauce do you want to go with it?”, he wondered. “I have sate, chili, cucumber…”, he listed. “No sauce.”, Spock replied without thinking. “Are you certain?”, the other asked, a little taken off-foot. Spock simply swiped his card over the scanner at the edge of the stand, then accepted the skewer from the stand keeper. He had put it in a little open carton box, that functioned as a bowl. Their fingertips touched nevertheless, and Spock let go of the parcel he was still clutching. “Oh dear.”, the stand keeper commented, but Spock simply picked it up and attempted to take the food again. This time, he succeeded. “You will not address me in that manner.”, he growled and walked away. It occurred to him a few seconds later that he had completely misunderstood the comment, but he felt too embarrassed to go back and apologize.</p><p>At the end of the street there was a little patch of greenery and several benches, and Spock sat down on one of them. He bit off the first meat ball. A very primal side of him basked in the feeling of the texture and the taste, and a more civilized part of him wished that he had picked a sauce to go with it. Not before long, he had gone from three meat balls to zero, and he felt the juice run down his chin. Before he could stop himself, he had swiped it away with a sleeve of his coat. This would be a rather difficult stain to clean, he remarked absentmindedly.</p><p>A Vulcan on the other side of the greenery had his gaze fixed on him. Spock stared back, aiming to assert his dominance. The other was very collected, with an immaculate haircut, unreadable face and impeccable, if at least clean, clothing. There was a young child sitting next to him, seemingly doing their schoolwork. Spock felt a growl quell in his throat, seeing that the other didn’t even blink. Suddenly, the other stood and took the child by the arm. They crossed the distance between the two benches. Spock tensed and broke eye contact. He felt extremely threatened.</p><p>“You are an imbecile.”, the Vulcan gentleman said as soon as he reached Spock. He was speaking High Vulcan. “Do we know?”, Spock replied in the same language, studying the grass at his boots. “I wish we did not.”, the other said. Spock looked up, at the same time not confused and very. The other looked like him, but different. It was not like his younger self from earlier that day, but instead the other looked like a wax doll, as flawlessly his exterior was and as emotionless his demeanor. “You should have never turned down the Academy’s invitation, especially not due to your petty reasons. I am a decorated scientist, not a soldier in disguise like you.”, he said. “I am not a soldier.”, Spock replied, but the other wouldn’t listen. “T’Pring did not refuse to marry me, as there was no reason for her to do so. We even have a child.”, the other said and indicated the child next to him. “I did succeed in my <em>Kolinahr</em>, long before you even attempted it. So, do you understand why I would rather you didn’t exist, <em>Captain</em> Spock?”, the other finished, spitting out the rank like it was a word under his dignity.</p><p>“And yet, you are not happy.”, Spock remarked in Standard, thinking that this was a rather illogical thing to say to a <em>Kolinahru</em>. “Why would you think so?” “Do you ever stop to look up at the stars? You are not made for a planetbound life, and you know. You are just living, but not for a reason.”, Spock explained. “You truly aren’t worth the label ‘<em>Vulcan’</em>.”, was spit towards him. The other, who had started out balanced, became irater by the minute.</p><p>“<em>Sa-mekh</em>, please don’t be so mean to him.”, the child suddenly said. Spock had almost forgotten they were there. He studied the child more closely. They had blond and curly hair, and the light-brown sprinkle in their left eye that was responsible for at least some of Jim Kirk’s charm. And yet, the ears were pointy and the skin had an almost imperceptible green tinge. “You are not a child of T’Pring.”, Spock half-asked. The child shook their head in an adorable fashion, and the other Spock was suddenly gone. The child curled up on the bench next to Spock, leaning their little head on his shoulder.</p><p>“<em>Mekh</em>?”, the child asked. It took Spock a few seconds to realize that he was being addressed. “Yes?”, he asked. “Will you get better?”, the child asked, looking up to him. “I believe so. Why do you ask?”, Spock replied, feeling very soft inside. “I would miss you if you didn’t.”, the child said. “When I am well again, we will visit Starfleet’s botanical gardens together, if you will be amendable?”, Spock suggested, wondering where that idea had come from. “You know I like to go there! Thank you, <em>mekh</em>.”, the child replied, very excited. They leaned against Spock’s shoulder again. Spock felt like he was going to fall asleep soon. “I need to go home now, <em>mekh</em>.”, the child said. Spock blinked awake. He was completely alone again. “Good bye.”, he murmured softly.</p><p>The way home was supposed to be short, but it didn’t feel like it. Spock had a lot to think about. He had obviously experienced another hallucination. He was still quite proud to have won against the perfect Vulcan that used to be in his shadow since he was little. It felt like a heavy weight lifted from him. The child, however, caught his fascination. He had never been interested in having children of his own. He had never even held an infant. Having a family and serving on a starship would hardly be compatible. And yet, there was this unresolved issue, nagging at his mind. When he died, there would not be anything left of him, and nothing of his family either. It struck him odd that he would feel the need to continue his family line, and a millennium worth of ancestors shouted in his head.</p><p>He finally reached the apartment, tiredly collapsing on the couch. He would never have a child, if simply for the reason that he was not attracted to women. The ancestors wouldn’t care, because they were dead. If this would be the course of history, <em>kaiidith</em>. Spock just wished Jim would be there to give him a hug. He would be soon, he told himself. With what energy he had left, he took off his boots and jacket, and got himself to the mediation room at the end of the hallway. After that, his memories became hazy.</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Kirk's Perspektive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The conclusion.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I finally finished the story. Just a tad later than I had originally planned. I would call it a win.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The PADD fell to the floor with a clatter. Kirk tried to ignore the stares of the diplomats around the room as he picked it up and continued with his presentation. His hands were sweaty, even though he did not feel particularly nervous. Maybe it was because of the heat in the meeting hall? Kirk glanced surreptitiously at the Andorian ambassador, who would probably suffer the most if it was actually as hot as Kirk felt. The ambassador didn’t seem bothered, if only by Kirk’s erratic pace of lecturing. Kirk gave up on speaking freely and just settled with reading his notes from his PADD.</p><p>“What the hell is wrong with you?”, Admiral Nogura whispered at him as the meeting hall finally began to empty. “What do you mean?”, Kirk asked in a normal tone and tried to dry his hands on his uniform. He had already opened the white flap, in an effort to get a little cooler. “Weren’t you a lecturer at the academy?”, Nogura inquired. Kirk nodded. “Then why did it seem like you are barely able to read?”, Nogura returned.</p><p>Kirk was suddenly quite sure why, as he mentally grasped for the bond. He had developed this habit a while ago, as it as strangely calming. But now, it felt like the strand of turquois energy that connected him to Spock was actively on fire. He gasped. Nogura studied him critically. “You look quite flushed. Are you sick?”, he asked. “I think I’ve caught the flu or something.”, Kirk lied. Nogura seemed to believe him and shot him an apologetic look. “Better get home before you infect anybody.”, he said and indicated the hall’s wide opened doors. “But the debriefing?”, Kirk asked. “Don’t worry, we’ll manage without you. You look like you can barely keep your eyes open anyways.”, the other Admiral said. “Thank you.”, Kirk murmured and left.</p><p>The ride home was more of a blur than a conscious activity. Only when his home station was announced Kirk managed to stop staring at the dirty floor of the subway and stand up. The doors were closing behind him just mere seconds after he stepped on the station’s platform. There were people all around him, moving to the subway trains and up to the daylight, and he was beginning to feel dizzy. It was only willpower that moved him onwards.</p><p>He found that the elevator button to their floor had a piece chipped of, and he absentmindedly wondered who could have done it. All he wanted was to get to Spock. He was near panic, even though he was practically there already. The air felt heavy, like it wanted to crush him and his lungs. Then, finally, the elevator doors opened. Kirk almost sprinted to their door and pressed his hand against the opening mechanism. The machinery let him inside.</p><p>Kirk threw his bag on the floor. He was in a disorienting frenzy, and before he knew he had stripped his clothes off. By off-chance, he looked at the floor again and immediately took the bottle of lube that had fallen out of the grocery bag that Spock had put there earlier. A mental power pulled him towards the far end of the hallway, where the meditation room was, and Kirk complied.</p><p>Spock had rolled up on the floor to a fetal position, his eyes half-closed. Kirk felt a tug at his heart. He shouldn’t have left him alone that morning. More feeling than actually seeing him, Spock sat up, extending a tentative hand towards him. It would have been adorable in different circumstances. Kirk sat down in front of Spock. “Let’s do this, shall we?”, Kirk murmured, and tried to pull the shirt he recognized as his own over Spock’s head. Spock somehow got tangled up in the process, and an angry growl combined with the sound of cloth ripping got him free. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”, Kirk said less dryly than he had aimed to. With his arms free again, Spock grabbed him by the hips and pinned him to the floor. Kirk had to think of all the times they had wrestled back on the Enterprise, the only difference being that they had been clothed while doing so.</p><p>This thought was swiftly gone as a lean hand reached for his meld points. Their yellow and green entities mixed together, not carefully and placid as they usually did, but like two oceans filled with angry hurricanes and hungry sharks. And it was like they were made of petroleum, as their touch ignited a fire like none before. The fire moved to every corner of their shared consciousness, burning away all sense of reason or restraint. Their shared human style kiss was the last thing they consciously experienced before everything went black, and there was only one being left, hungrily tucking at itself, yearning for relief.</p><p>    </p><p>    </p><p>    </p><p>Kirk awoke with a dry mouth. For a short moment he thought that he had a bad hangover, but then he remembered. He opened his eyes, just to see the rug, a lot closer than it usually was. He turned his head a little, and Spock moved in his field of vision. His bondmate was laying on his back, seemingly sound asleep. Kirk wondered if he himself looked similarly beat up. Spock had green scratches and scrapes all over his body, and Kirk felt sore in more than one place as well. The rug was not overly soft, after all.</p><p>“Spock.”, Kirk murmured, slightly astonished at how rough his own voice sounded. Spock was, in fact, not asleep. He turned his head and looked at Jim, blinking in an effort to clear his vision. “Mhh?”, he asked eloquently. “Is it over?”, Kirk wanted to know. “I believe so.”, Spock replied slowly. “Fuck.”, Kirk grumbled to express his overall state. “Yes, but not within the next week, if possible.”, Spock said, and Kirk laughed softly. A sharp pain in his side informed him that he had probably cracked a rib or two. Spock frowned, feeling it as well. “I am truly sorry.”, he told Kirk. “You look like you’ve been through a meat grinder too, so I think we shouldn’t cast blame.”, Kirk replied. “On a subjective level, I must agree with your assessment.”, Spock replied as he tried to sit up. His <em>lok</em> might have been stored neatly behind his testicular folds again, but it must have been as chaved as Kirk’s own penis.</p><p>After some wincing, they were leaning against the wall, looking out the giant window, and holding hands. “The sun is either rising or setting. I wonder which it is.”, Kirk commented. “Setting.”, Spock said after a moment of deliberation. “And what’s the date?”, Kirk said after almost a minute of silence. “Is it important?”, Spock wondered. “Not really.”, Kirk conceded. “I’m hungry and sticky.”, Kirk said after yet another moment of silence.</p><p>Showering was quite difficult with an adult Vulcan clinging to him, Kirk found. But somehow it had been worse when Spock had stared at him from outside the semitransparent cabin of the Sonic shower like a kicked puppy. He had read that Vulcans could be quite clingy for a while after regaining their hormonal equilibrium, so he wasn’t surprised. It was quite endearing, actually. “Mind switching around? I think the worst is on my frontside actually.”, he whispered in his bondmate’s pointy ear. Spock complied wordlessly, and they were standing back-to-back.</p><p>Clean and dressed in something else out of Jim’s wardrobe, Spock said down on his bed, seemingly ready to fall asleep anytime. Kirk however didn’t feel like sleeping just yet. “Do we even have something to eat?”, he wondered after pulling his favorite shirt over his head. Spock nodded weakly. “On the kitchen floor, I believe.”, he said and tried to get up again. Kirk snorted. “Stay put, I’ll go.”, he said.</p><p>When Kirk returned fifteen minutes later, Spock had put his head on the pillow, but his eyes were still opened. Kirk sat down a bowl full of soup on Spock’s nightstand. “It was pretty difficult to figure out what I should cook from the ingredients that you bought.”, he commented and sat down on his bed, another bowl in his hand. “This seems adequate.”, Spock murmured and began to sip at the already cooling liquid. Pieces of vegetables and tofu were swimming in the broth. It stung a little in the overused corners of his mouth, Kirk found when he tried as well. Surprisingly soon, their bowls were emptied. Kirk took them to the kitchen.</p><p>“Have you seen who sent you this parcel?”, he asked as he entered their bedroom again. “What parcel?”, Spock wondered weakly. Kirk shook the mentioned object. “It was under the table; I just saw it now.”, he explained. “I have not yet had the opportunity to read the tag.”, Spock returned, tired but intrigued. Kirk flopped down on the bed next to Spock. “It’ from your parents.”, Kirk told him as he extended the parcel towards Spock. “Indeed.”, Spock stated, frowning slightly. “Open it.”, Kirk prompted him. Still looking a little critically, Spock followed that suggestion.</p><p>Both stared the contents of the box. Whatever they had expected, it wasn’t this. “Painkillers, anti-inflammatory gel, cool pads, antibiotics.”, Kirk said as he went through the parcel. “They’re even that kind that you are not allergic to.”, he commented. Spock wordlessly took a little rectangular device from the parcel’s bottom. He presented it to Jim. “A dermal regenerator; the newest generation, if I am not mistaken.”, he said smugly. He carefully took Kirk’s right hand in his own, turned on the regenerator and began to close the little cuts all over the fingers. Kirk smiled at him endearingly.</p><p>Their worst cuts closed, the painkillers and antibiotics injected into their necks with the hypospray they kept in the bathroom, and the rest placed strategically on their bodies, they were ready to fall asleep. Kirk was sipping on an isotonic sports drink; the powder for it had been included in the box as well. He offered it to Spock to drink as well.</p><p>“Jim.”, Spock said lowly. “What’s it?”, Kirk asked, the painkillers quite obviously beginning to kick in. “May we visit the botanical gardens tomorrow?”, Spock inquired. Kirk grunted noncommittally. “Sure, why not.”, he said. He was surprised to feel Spock’s lips on his still irritated own. “I love you, Jim.”, Spock said. Kirk took him and pulled him closer, until they were spooning. “I love you too.”, he returned softly. Spock’s relaxed purring was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you liked what you read. Anyways, thank you for your attention.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The second part is to follow as soon as I finish it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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